Naked
by Who Is Caligula
Summary: A wounded war hero sets the crew of the Normandy on edge.
1. Chapter 1

Despite her graying hair, Chakwas was in excellent physical condition and regularly drew the eyes of men half her age. She was not a vain woman, yet the hunt for Saren was taking a toll on the aging doctor. Her decelerating metabolism and lean physique were becoming increasingly problematic. Fatigue, headaches, muscle pain, and sleep disturbances had been tolerable so far; in fact, Chakwas was unsurprised by the frequency of these reported symptoms among the rest of the crew.

At the moment, she was also uncomfortably cold. This was a particularly distressing realization for the fully uniformed medical officer, because she always kept the medbay thermostat several degrees higher than the mess hall. She suspected that the engine room would have been the only warmer-

"Doctor Chakwas, Shepard needs help!"

The doctor had been so wrapped up in her thoughts, she hadn't even noticed the medbay door's usual swishing sound. Far more startling was the sight of the newcomers.

"You can't be serious!" the physician exclaimed eloquently.

"I told her to let the paramedics patch her up, but she-"

"Just have a seat, Commander", the doctor interrupted the turian, gesturing to the nearest exam table. The spectre complied.

"I don't think it's _serious_", Shepard grunted as she stripped off her combat suit, obviously making a tremendous effort to appear strapping in front of her turian admirer. It might fool the turian, but Chakwas held sacred knowledge of the commander that no else did. Decades of medical experience granted visual acuity that would turn a salarian green.

_Assuming they weren't green to begin with_, Chakwas mused. Kirrahe had been a charming conversationalist. She was sorry to see him go.

"Garrus, would you be so kind as to wait outside?"

"Oh. Of course, Doctor", the turian tipped his head respectfully, but only Shepard noticed his hesitation before departing. The commander did not care if the turian saw her naked; she was slow to undress because her ribs and legs screamed with pain at the slightest touch. Pinpricks ran through her right foot, and her wrist was also beginning to throb. The paramedics' palliative cocktail was probably wearing off, and her heart fluttered briefly when she removed her final garment.

_Would it kill Chakwas to turn the heat up in here?_

"Alright", the good doctor sighed. "You know the drill, Shepard".

The naked spectre steadied her breathing, adjusting herself to the relatively cool air that washed across her alabaster skin. Chakwas skimmed a handheld scanner across her patient, ignoring the pale streak of scar tissue that adorned Shepard's kneecap. Shepard was a unique patient, having expressed absolutely no interest in rudimentary cosmetic grafting. She would occasionally shared stories of her most grievous wounds with the good doctor. Chakwas was never squeamish about details, and Shepard spared her none.

Chakwas knew every inch of Shepard, though she sensed the spectre had never really been the shy type. The spectre did not utter a word with regard to the climactic battle against Saren in the Citadel Tower. The exhaustion in her face and stillness of her eyes told Chakwas more than enough.

"Ribs hurt the most", Shepard muttered. "Hope I didn't crack them again".

"I'll run a full scan" the doctor declared. Shepard shifted onto her back, although the wrinkles of her brow made her silent agony all too apparent to Chakwas. She administered a mild sedative with an anti-inflammatory. The wrinkles faded within seconds.

As the familiar hum of medical machinery filled the medbay, Chakwas noticed the commander's pulse dipping to a relaxed tempo. Shepard found herself wondering if Garrus had ever seen a naked woman before.


	2. Chapter 2

Two women, neither of them naked, stood somber within the mess hall's amber lighting. The first, a hooded quarian, stared into nothingness with her arms folded. The second wore the neutral tones of an academic, eager eyes trained on the medbay door. The only crewmember seated at the table was a krogan, and this was a rare occasion since he was not the most unsettled individual in the room. Wrex grew agitated by the turian's ceaseless pacing, the pointless strides which took him around the dining table four times in the past few minutes. It seemed as though the investigator was closing in on a guilty krogan suspect, hoping to sweat the truth out of him. It wasn't scaring anyone, but Wrex thought it was weird as hell.

After a heavy sigh, the krogan decided he could bare the silence no longer. He shattered it without shame.

"Shouldn't you be fixing some _stupid_ car?"

The turian froze, but shook his head in response to the krogan's rhetoric.

"Only when you go back to skulking in a dark corner, Wrex".

Crimson eyes rolled sickeningly in their deep sockets, and the turian averted his gaze from Wrex's yellow hide. He would not be provoked so easily; if he could withstand incessant taunts on Eletania, he would certainly not be baited by a single crabby krogan. Garrus knew he was just one of many people who fantasized about placing a micro-mass accelerator round right in the center of a krogan's fleshy face.

They were just _so ugly_.

"I don't get it", Wrex admitted casually, though his voice rumbled in the turian's chest like a fusion drive core. "I figured everyone would be happy. Saren is dead. Shepard is alive. Hell, I never liked dancing, but if you think Flux is still open-"

"Don't give us that, Wrex", the turian rudely cut him off. "You were there when this whole thing happened. Why did Shepard get so severely injured while you toddled off with barely a scratch?"

The krogan frowned. He rose from the table, tremendous bulk amplified by the blunt hump on his back. Tali flinched apprehensively, and even Liara's stalwart attention had been diverted to the speaker. Despite his distance, Wrex's shadow stretched halfway up the arrogant turian's body.

_You want an answer? I'll give you one._

"I was fighting right alongside her. We bled together. I can't help it if my skin is a little thicker than hers, but if I _had_ gotten torn up, I would wear those scars with pride. I could ask for no better battlefield to die on".

_Look long and hard upon this face, turian._

The turian blinked his beady little eyes. Wrex always knew when his facial gashes were being scrutinized. They bore an ancient power, though his combat suit concealed old favorites. Images of Saren's broken body cycled through the krogan's mind, but he did not stop to savor them.

"A huge chunk of Sovereign smashed into the tower", he paused, crimson eyes now distant. "We thought we lost her. I have never lamented the death of a human" his eyes fell hard upon the turian's, "and I don't intend to break that record".

Peaceful silence returned to the room, and Garrus stood motionless. Satisfied, Wrex seated himself.


	3. Chapter 3

The brooding bystanders in the mess hall shuffled at the sharp sound of the medbay door. Chakwas emerged, slender and straight in her medical uniform, folding her arms upon meeting the worried gazes of four restless onlookers.

"Don't tell me you're all here for Shepard", came her redundant remark.

"Will she be alright?" Liara spoke with unrestrained concern.

"Of course", she replied in melodic British intonation. "Commander's been through far worse than this, you know".

"Can we speak to her?" the turian appeared ready to fight his way into the medbay.

"Not just yet, Garrus", Chakwas let her arms fall to her sides. "I only gave her a mild sedative, but she'll need all the rest she can get".

"Oh. Of course", Garrus let his eyes drop to the floor. "If anyone deserves it, I suppose it's her. Hell, if I'd been through all that, I might sleep for days".

"You can sleep longer than that", Wrex noted, "I can arrange for you to take a nice nap. Drug free, even. Can't promise you'll wake up from it, through".

"It would be best to allow the commander to sleep undisturbed, for the time being", Chakwas struck preemptively with her own words before Garrus could launch a counterattack on the krogan antagonist. "Shepard tends to be a light sleeper, so we'll just have to-"

"How is she, Doctor?" a rich baritone cut through the air.

The crew turned to the voice, and saw Captain Anderson in the traditional blue of a perfectly pressed Alliance uniform.

"Minor wounds, Captain" Chakwas stood and saluted, being the only Alliance officer present. "She's resting now, but I wouldn't expect her to be fit for combat for another few days".

"That's fine", Anderson replied. "I only wish she could take an extended shore leave. We don't have the luxury of time, though".

Wrex watched as Anderson's theatrical eyes passed over the onlookers. Most people looked at krogans for a different period of time than other species. Anderson did not seem to give any special scrutiny to Wrex, however. Krogans were very slow to trust, but something about this human's eyes seemed strange to the veteran mercenary.

"You have performed superbly. All of you", the captain spoke to no one in particular. Anderson's bizarre posture and locking of hands behind the back was easy to recognize as a human gesture of authority. Wrex had no special love for authority, speeches, or humans in general. He remained seated.

"The commander will soon be undertaking the most important mission ever assigned to a soldier. I can't promise you what the future will hold. All I know is that your contributions are nothing short of historic. On behalf of the Systems Alliance, I thank you".

Anderson nodded before departing. Deciding his seat was suddenly uncomfortable, Wrex stood with a grunt and followed Tali and Garrus to the Normandy's spacious elevator.

No words were spoken during their descent.


	4. Chapter 4

The mess hall emptied quickly, leaving the asari alone once more. Liara's predicament was unusual. She habitually sought use of the extranet console in her cozy office, but she would need to pass through the medical bay in order to reach it. She had no desire to wake the weary spectre, but she could not simply wait for hours on end for during Shepard's slumber.

The lone asari glanced about the mess hall before extracting her access card for the medbay. Like the medbay itself, her office was also warmer than most of the Normandy. Doctor Liara T'Soni was accustomed to solitude, but something about being alone in the chilly mess hall made her feel inexplicably exposed and vulnerable.

_Shepard._

She would sneak the medical bay quickly and quietly. Getting to the warm seclusion of her office was all that mattered. It was a simple enough goal, though she was in no real hurry to accomplish it.

A gentle hum, and the unlocked door swished open. T'Soni stepped through the corridor, where the medbay lights were heavily dimmed. Even so, it was easy to spot Shepard in the dark. Her skin was milky, like creamy custards of asari master chefs, heavenly smooth and sometimes garnished with fresh berries.

Liara had not tasted custard in a long time.

She shook thoughts of food from her head. She was not even hungry in the slightest, and she was unsure why her mind wandered to such things. Neurons and impulses seemed to fire wildly in Shepard's presence, apparently even during sleep.

Feline steps brought the asari to the length of Shepard's bare body. How many people in the galaxy could claim to have seen a sleeping spectre?

Still, T'Soni was a scientist, not a shallow spectator. Shepard appeared so relaxed, so peaceful, she was almost unrecognizable. Low lighting was no match for the acute visual memory of an asari scientist, however. A vertical scar laced Shepard's right cheek, framing that rare yet noble smile. The high bridge of her nose bisected the symmetry of dark brows, and echoed the parting hair black as infinite space. Tactile memory of those silky black strands tickling sensitive blue skin made the asari doctor shiver uncontrollably.

"Couldn't resist a peak, huh?"

Startled, Liara nearly lost her supposedly stealthy footing and grasped the edge of the exam table for support.

"Shepard, you frightened me!" Liara sucked in a breath of relief. "I am sorry, I did not mean to-"

"Forget it", Shepard murmured, the whites of her eyes now visible. "Wouldn't be much of a spectre if I let some little sedative pull me down now, would I?"

T'Soni blinked.

"Chakwas turned in for the night?"

"Yes", Liara nodded. "Captain Anderson visited as well. We thought you would be resting".

"I was resting. Got plenty of energy now", Shepard leered suggestively at the asari while sliding herself off the table. Commanding hands instantly went to work on the familiar fasteners of T'Soni's sleek academic uniform.

"Commander", Liara crooned, though she found no words of protest to follow.

"Yes, Doctor?" Shepard spoke sweetly while forcefully stripping the asari of her garments.

"Are you sure this is-" the hushed asari struggled to articulate her thoughts, "the appropriate time?" The spectre laughed silently, and Liara felt warm breath puffing upon her neck.

"It's never an appropriate time", came Shepard's effortless explanation.

Doctor Liara T'Soni could not have analyzed the spectre's wisdom if she wanted to. Shepard's lips were torturously gentle upon her throat, teeth delightfully sharp upon her round shoulder.

Respiration grew heavy, twin tempo steadying into a single harmonious cadence. The Normandy's darkened medbay became a moonlit beach, blue waves undulating upon pale brackish sand.


End file.
